


A House United

by pt_tucker



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Lazard-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 06:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/pseuds/pt_tucker
Summary: Rufus decides on another route to taking over the company. Lazard is somewhat unwillingly dragged along.





	A House United

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyKF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKF/gifts).



> So, this is actually the fic I originally started for the FFVII Exchange, and it was _supposed_ to be a "Five Times" fic detailing the different ways Lazard is still a "slum kid" at heart and how that effects him now that he's the Director of SOLDIER but then it just...gained plot? On its own? And combined with one of the other prompts provided to me - Rufus and Lazard joining forces to take over Shinra. Once that happened, I realized it would _have_ to be a longer fic than I'd been intending and there was no way I was going to complete it in time for the exchange. And now here we are.
> 
> FYI, I have a really shit memory combined with the need of the characters to do what they wanna do, so this fic probably isn't going to be completely canon compliant and might get a bit wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey on the details.

Lazard was only half paying attention to his midday snack - not lunch; he didn’t have time for that - and thus wasn’t all that surprised when he reached for his bag of chips and accidentally knocked it off his desk. He looked away from his monitor just long enough to note its location on the floor before turning his attention back to the incoming field reports. 

Each report needed to be cross-referenced with the battle plans he’d strung together around 9:00 AM this morning, after a Turk had called in a burgeoning uprising in Sector Four. Adjustments then needed to be made to the plans based on said reports and sent back out to the SOLDIERs. The most experienced among them - namely Genesis and Angeal - would then either delegate the necessary changes to the lower ranks or, more likely, do it themselves if the task was simple enough. In short, he had far more important things to worry about than a bag of spilled Chocoritos, and they sat on his floor for a good hour before he finally found the time to move from his seat. 

He squatted down beside his desk, PHS in hand, and scrolled through his notifications while he scooped the chips that’d fallen onto the floor back into the bag. A good half of the texts were simply the word ‘Cleared’ followed by longitude and latitude coordinates as Sephiroth kept him updated on his own mission near Bone Village. The man never elaborated unless asked, the idea being that one could assume Sephiroth had completed whatever task had been assigned to him with minimal loss.

“Ya know,” a voice drawled. Lazard stiffened. “Most people’d toss the ones that hit the floor.”

Lazard looked up to find Reno leaning against the entrance to his office. His mag rod tapped against his shoulder as he watched him with those cool eyes that all Turks seemed to possess. 

“Pretty sure they broke the ten second rule a long time ago, yo.”

Lazard dusted the salt off his fingers as he stood. “Yes, of course. I suppose I was distracted.” He waved his PHS and gave him an overly polite smile they both knew was false. 

In truth, he saw nothing wrong with eating food off of what was a decently clean floor, but that wasn’t the sort of thing the Director of SOLDIER should be admitting aloud. Certainly not to one of Rufus’ pets. 

“What can I do for the Turks?” Lazard asked.

Reno shrugged. “Nothing. We were told to secure the ‘important people’ while the last of the Sector Four stragglers are rounded up, yo.” He made quotes with one hand as he spoke. “Guess the boss man thinks there might be some last minute kamikaze shit going on once they get it through their heads they lost.”

“I see.” No telling if ‘boss man’ referred to the President or Rufus or Tseng. And Reno wasn’t likely to tell him if he asked. Not directly.

“Are the other department heads being protected as well?” 

“Fuck if I know.” 

Which meant they weren’t. At least not all of them, anyway. Reno was high enough in the Turk food chain to know everything. 

So it’d been an order passed down by either Rufus or Tseng, the latter of which was, by all accounts, an extension of the former. Lazard wasn’t foolish enough to think the President cared one way or the other when it came to his personal death or capture. Lazard would only be assigned a security detail by him if they’d all been assigned one. 

“I see,” he said again, not seeing what Rufus had to gain from this show of ‘brotherly sentiment’ and not liking it. 

He bent down and scooped the last of the chips into the bag before tossing the entire thing into the bin beside his desk. Reno’s mag rod stopped moving, and for a second it looked like he might call him out on the waste - Lazard would certainly deserve it - but he didn’t. 

“Gotta keep up them appearances, huh?” he said instead.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lazard said, slipping into his chair. 

“Whatever you say, yo.” 

Lazard read the newest report that’d come in, but, as expected, the battle was all but finished. It detailed the general winding-down of hostilities and securement of prisoners and little else. 

“You know, I have an entire floor of mako-enhanced super humans at my beck and call,” Lazard said after he’d sent off what he hoped would be his final orders. “I doubt I need a Turk bodyguard.”

Reno gave him a smirk. “Wantin’ me to leave so you can eat your garbage food, yo?”

Wanting him to leave so he could work without having to pretend the man wasn’t _staring_ at him. Lazard didn’t know how any of them ever got anything done with the way they were always watching each other. He would, admittedly, still eat the chips after he left, yes, but that was another matter entirely.

“I’m sure you have better things to do,” Lazard said diplomatically, side-stepping the accusation. 

Reno shrugged. “What I have to do is what the boss tells me to do, yo.” 

And Lazard wasn’t ‘the boss.’ 

He pulled out his PHS and scrolled to Rufus’ number before changing his mind and scrolling to Tseng’s. Rufus wasn’t likely to answer his call anyway and even if he did, Lazard wasn’t likely to enjoy speaking with him. Reno watched him with vague interest.

“Director Lazard,” Tseng answered, picking up after only a single ring, “this is unexpected. How may the Turks be of service? I assume this isn’t a personal call.”

Something clanked in the background.

“No, it’s not.” Another clank and a half-exasperated chuckle. “Forgive me if I’m interrupting anything.” 

“Not at all.” Tseng’s voice gave nothing away as the clanking shifted into what sounded like a blowtorch. 

Lazard smoothed down his tie and pretended not to hear. He probably didn’t want to know.

“I’m calling to inform you that your protection, while appreciated, is not necessary,” he said. Reno’s eyebrow quirked, an amused and somewhat approving smile curling his lips. “As I told him, I have an entire floor full of SOLDIERs available should I require any saving. And, if I may be frank, I’m certain the Turks could be putting their resources to better use right now.” Now that SOLDIER had dealt with the situation, it would be up to the Department of Administrative Research to track down exactly what had started it in the first place.

“Excuse me, Director.”

The line went silent. Lazard one-handedly typed out a response to Scarlet as he waited. The woman couldn’t honestly believe he’d allow her to shoot bullets at his SOLDIERs just so she could ‘test the tracking accuracy’ of one of her new machine menaces. 

After about two minutes, in which Lazard had had to stop himself three times from calling Scarlet something he’d later regret, Reno dug a PHS out of his pocket. He held it up to Lazard, his general air of amusement only increasing. 

“Looks like I got a message from the boss, yo. Wonder what it could be about.”

“I wonder,” Lazard deadpanned. He shot off the email. Time to wait for Scarlet’s inevitable less-than-pleasant response.

Reno scanned the message before spinning on his heel. “See ya.” He waved the PHS over his shoulder as he retreated back to his own section of the tower. Or wherever Tseng had sent him.

Tseng came back on the line. “Forgive me. Everything should be taken care of now. We recommend you call in one of your SOLDIERs until the conflict in Sector Four is fully resolved.”

‘We’ not ‘I.’ Either a deliberate slip or Rufus’ lapdog was getting old.

“Of course,” Lazard agreed. It was one of his easier compromises of late.

“Could you perhaps give me a hand here when you’re done with that?” someone asked in the background. 

“Is that Director Tuesti?” Lazard asked as something like relief flowed through him. That explained the blowtorch. 

“It is,” Tseng said. “Is there anything else I can assist you with, Director?”

“No. Thank you. Have a good day.” 

“You as well.” 

The line went silent again.

So, at least two people had been put under Rufus’ protection. Whether they required it or not. Two department heads. What was the man up to?

Lazard saved his contemplation for another time as he scrolled through his PHS’ notifications again. Yet more ‘Cleared’s from Sephiroth and a message from Genesis saying he was leaving the Sector Four cleanup to Angeal and returning to the tower. 

Lazard shot off a quick text. _Well done. Come to my office when you arrive._

_Of course._ Genesis responded, condescension all but dripping from the words, no doubt assuming Lazard was calling him in to report on what’d happened.

Lazard didn’t correct him. If things went well, Genesis needn’t even know he was serving as a bodyguard. If they didn’t go well, Genesis wouldn’t require prior warning to do his job. Unlike the Turks, who were still entirely human in their reaction time, a SOLDIER needn't be on guard 24/7 in order to block bullets. They just…did.

But first, before he arrived…

Lazard pulled his chips out of the trash.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it so far, especially my giftee! I'm gonna be honest and say that writing these characters is not my strong suit, so if you have any pointers, lmk. 
> 
> As always, comments & kudos are love. <3


End file.
